


Suitors

by accidentallyonpurpose



Series: Dragon Tony [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angry Odin (Marvel), Angst, F/M, Loki is reluctant, Loki is sassy, M/M, Parent Frigga (Marvel), Protective Frigga (Marvel), odin's not great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallyonpurpose/pseuds/accidentallyonpurpose
Summary: Loki has to deal with various suitors throughout his teenage years





	Suitors

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's been so long!! Life is kicking me in the pants, friends. There is A LOT going on so although I can't promise I'll be quick with updates, I can promise they will happen.

“I would ask for your son’s hand in marriage.” 

Loki stared down at the man before him. He was respectfully on one knee in front of the dais that Loki, Thor and their parents sat upon. Thor and Loki flanked their parents on the tall dais. 

The man had grey skin and was barrel-chested, dark brown hair streaked with green falling down his back. His beard, which was braided with ribbons and beads, hung down past his belt. His bright yellow tunic clashed with his hair and the wide brown belt he was wearing. Black leather leggings hugged his legs and were tucked into tall brown boots. 

“As you know, you must first woo Prince Loki before you may ask for his hand,” Odin said regally from his throne. He was lounging back in it, one hand resting on the armrest and the other loosely clasped around his staff. 

“I would ask permission to woo him, then,” the man responded. 

“Arandir, Prince of Kant of Nidavellir, I grant you permission to court Prince Loki Odinson,” Odin boomed from his place on his throne. Frigga looked over apologetically at Loki as he quietly groaned. “You may join us in the garden for tea tomorrow afternoon.” 

With the decree Odin waved his hand, dismissing Arandir. The prince stood and bowed respectfully before leaving the chamber through a pair of grand gilded doors that were propped open. His footsteps echoed in the room for a few moments.

A murmur rippled through the gathered courtiers as Loki slunk further into his throne. “Must I?” he murmured, looking balefully at his mother. At sixteen he was tall and gangly, all long limbs and sharp angles and silk tunics that hung off his thin frame. 

“It is your duty,” Frigga said softly, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. “Give them an honest chance. You can always refuse them.” 

Loki didn’t respond, leaning his elbow on the armrest of his throne and thumping his chin into the heel of his hand. He glared off into the middle distance, not making eye contact with anyone. 

Loki sat sullenly as a courtier stepped forward to announce his marriage to another courtier, and a parade of warriors and citizens came forward one by one with problems they wanted their king to fix. Thor chimed in every once in a while, providing possible answers when prompted by his father. Loki sat in stony silence, glaring off into the middle distance. 

The next day found Loki in his dressing gown, curled up on the window seat in his chambers and looking morosely down at the gardens. The sun was shining brightly, glinting merrily off of the teacups and pots the servants were setting out. It was as if the weather was mocking him.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Loki closed his eyes for a moment, using magic to see who was on the other side of the door.

“Come in.”

“Loki, why aren’t you dressed?” Frigga scolded gently as she closed the door behind her with a soft snick. 

“I won’t be attending tea today. I’m feeling poorly.” Loki drew his robe tighter around himself, hands clutching nervously at his sleeve ends. 

“Loki,” Frigga hummed, sitting beside Loki on the window seat. “You know you must attend.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close and laying a kiss on top of his head. 

Loki sighed and leaned his head on Frigga’s shoulder.

“You could tell them I’m ill?” he tried.

“You know your father wouldn’t believe that. And then he would drag you kicking and screaming out to the garden, dressing gown and all.”

“I wouldn’t care,” he said with venom in his voice. 

“Maybe not, but I’m sure Prince Arandir would enjoy the show.”

Loki huffed but stood, dislodging Frigga’s arm. He stalked over to his wardrobe, flinging it open and crossing his arms as he regarded the rows of silken garments. 

He reached forward and pulled out a long, black robe with a high neck and sleeves that cinched at his wrists. Silently he moved behind the gilded screen in the corner of his room, jerking the robe over his head and sliding on a pair of leather breeches. 

As he came back around the screen, Frigga approached him and straightened his collar, running her hand over his shoulder before reaching down and grasping his hand. 

“Just for the afternoon,” Frigga said reassuringly. 

Loki hummed and crossed to the window again, watching Odin and Arandir as they arrived in the garden and sat down, jovially talking. He hated the garish apparel that seemed to be Arandir’s style. Today he was wearing a scarlet tunic and bright orange leggings, the same boots as yesterday and an array of braided leather bracelets and necklaces. 

His hope was to put Arandir off with his somber, simple outfit. 

“Will you not be hot?” Frigga asked as she fingered the tight cuff of his robes. 

“Perhaps I’ll faint and be excused,” he said hopefully. 

Frigga just shook her head, leading him out of his chambers and down to the gardens, hand resting on his arm. 

As they passed through the cool halls, Loki steeled himself for an unpleasant afternoon.

When they emerged into the warm sun, Arandir instantly greeted them. 

“Prince Loki!” Arandir stood and crossed the distance between them and offered his arm. Odin was step behind, ready to take Frigga’s arm. “Black suits you!” 

Loki gingerly laid his hand on Arandir’s, keeping his body as far away from Arandir’s as possible. Arandir lead him towards the table that had been lavishly set with teas, sandwiches and various other finger foods. 

“It is a lovely day, is it not?” Arandir asked as he escorted Loki to his chair, pulling it out for him. 

“If one enjoys the sun, I suppose they would say it is a lovely day,” Loki said with an upturned nose, hands clasped delicately in his lap. 

“I enjoy the sun very much. And being outdoors. Hunting and horseback riding are two of my favourite activities. Do you enjoy hunting?”

“I find chasing beasts to be intellectually uninspiring.”

“Do you prefer to be indoors, then?”

“I prefer activities that are mentally stimulating,” Loki repeated, speaking slowly as if to a child. “Reading, chess, and the like. Have you ever played chess?”

“I have not. Perhaps you can teach me.” Arandir seemed unaffected by Loki’s tone.

“I only engage in activities that are worth my time.” Loki let a cold smile slide across his face. 

“Arandir, tell me of your latest kill,” Odin interrupted when he noticed Arandir’s smile start to fade.

Arandir was easily distracted, and went on to boisterously describe his latest kill, punctuating exciting moments with a wave of the sandwiches he was shoveling into his mouth. 

“Have you tasted any of the food that has been shoved down your gullet?” Loki interrupted during a lull in the story. He had watched in growing horror as Arandir’s beard accumulated a collection of crumbs and bits of food. 

“Yes, the food is very good, thank you for such a wonderful feast,” Arandir beamed at Odin and Frigga. “I would take a stroll through the garden, if everyone else would like to as well?”

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” Frigga said, standing and lacing her hand through Odin’s bent arm. Loki mirrored his mother, stiffly placing his hand on Arandir’s arm. 

“What is your favourite type of flower, Prince Loki?” Arandir asked as they started down a path. There were trees lining either side of it, carefully groomed into beautiful and intricate shapes. 

“I do not enjoy flowers,” Loki said shortly. It was a lie; one of Loki’s favourite pastimes was reading in the garden. 

“What do you enjoy, besides books and quiet?” Arandir asked carefully. 

“Not much,” Loki answered shortly. 

“Prince Loki, have I done something to offend you?” he asked, annoyed.

“You eat like a boar, you dress like a child and you have the intelligence of a bilgensnipe.”

With a sneer, Loki turned and flounced away, glorying in the spluttering that he heard behind him. 

“Come back here!” 

Loki took off running, Odin’s angry words nipping at his heels and urging him quicker towards the castle. 

He didn’t stop, nor did he slow down to enjoy the bewildered looks of the warriors and servants he passed. 

He slammed into his bedroom a few minutes later, chest heaving and a genuine smile on his face. He leaned against the wall beside his door, a small giggle escaping him. 

This small act of rebellion sang through him as he ripped open the choking collar of his tunic, yanking it over his head and throwing it carelessly on the floor. He crossed to his bed and flung himself down on it, chest bare and arms eagle-spread. 

He lay there as his breathing slowed down, a sense of dread slowly starting to creep in as his heart rate slowed. Odin would not be happy with him, but it was perfectly within his right to deny a suitor. 

As he lay there, Loki dreaded the line-up of suitors that were bound to follow.


End file.
